Northern Conqueror

Chapter 4: Daggers in the Dark

Chapter 4: Daggers in the Dark

Sam left two days later, off to Oldtown to become a Maester after he dropped Gilly and Little Sam off with his family. Davos' return had been a surprise, but Melisandre's had destroyed his hope that Stannis would win Sansa's war for them.

It was difficult enough handling the Wall, but nearly impossible to try and plan against the Boltons when he had no idea how many men they had. Two thousand wildlings might be able to face three, maybe even four thousand if they were lucky and planned well, but for all he knew they'd march to Winterfell and find ten thousand armed and armored men waiting for them. At least it was only Roose Bolton leading them, or else Stannis and his men would be among those waiting for them.

He set down a letter from Eastwatch and rubbed his forehead, wishing he could sleep forever when the door burst open. "Lord Commander," Olly said as he entered. "It's one of the wildlings you brought back. Says he knows your uncle Benjen. Says he's still alive."

"Are you sure he's talking about Benjen?" He asked, his chair sliding back as he rose.

"Said he was first ranger." Jon made for the door as Olly followed. "Said he knows where to find him."

Thorne was waiting at the bottom of the stairs as Jon pulled on his gloves. "Man says he saw your uncle at Hardhome the last full moon."

"Could be lying."

"Could be. There are ways to find out."

"Where is he?"

"Over there," Thorne motioned toward the group of men standing crowded together.

Jon pushed through, and all the hope that had been building in him the past few days froze over and shattered when he saw the sign.

TRAITOR

He knew. He knew the moment he saw the plank nailed to the beam. He knew what would happen when he turned around, and he knew who it would be. And still he wanted to ask why, even as Thorne thrust the dagger into his abdomen.

As if to answer his unasked question, Thorne said firmly, "For the watch."

The dagger was ripped out of him, only for another to pierce his stomach. "For the watch."

The second was barely gone was the third struck. "For the watch."

The fourth felt quicker then the others. "For the watch."

The fifth seemed to linger before it was torn free. "For the watch."

He scanned the crowd, wishing he could fight them all, wanting to strike at them, but his body wouldn't move. Instead of charging forward, he fell to his knees.

The crowd parted and he saw Olly make his way toward him, stand in front of Jon and stare at him with every ounce of hate he held pushing away any regret he might have held.

The cold had started to return, all the warmth he'd found in the last few days pouring out of him, through his fingers. He was at Hardhome again, dead eyes meeting his. He wanted to say something. He wanted to be warm again.

"Ghost," he whispered before Olly drove the dagger into his heart.

His eyes flicked toward the King's Tower, where Ghost would be in Sansa's room. He'd keep her safe as much as Brienne and Podrick. He'd do what Jon couldn't. They didn't know yet, she was still Alayne to them, so they wouldn't hurt her. She could get out safe with Ghost and Brienne and Podrick and Edd. She could go to the Wildlings and find someplace safe. Davos and Tormund would take care of her.